


Hope and Fear

by RoxyDearheart03



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Alternative conflict resolution, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Gender Dysphoria, Lovers apart, Plot with Fluff, She's got a secret, Trans Asami Sato
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:21:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27138593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoxyDearheart03/pseuds/RoxyDearheart03
Summary: While trying to reconcile the events of Ruins of the Empire, the world is now in an age of uncertainty. The Earth States constantly ally and divide, rival factions and villages resume old conflicts, and nobody is sure of what the future will hold.Meanwhile, Bolin gets the idea for another Nuktuk mover, to help raise everyone's spirits and provide common ground for everyone to enjoy. Will he be up to the task?Also, Asami has something she hasn't told Korra about herself yet, and is unsure how to go about it. The price of rejection might be too much for her to bear...
Relationships: Bolin/Opal (Avatar), Korra/Asami Sato
Comments: 3
Kudos: 19





	1. The Past Doth Murder Sleep

It had been one of those nights.

Nights when it was just too still, when the comfort needed to drift off to sleep was suspiciously absent, when the mind got far too busy.

After hours of futile tossing and turning, Bolin finally gave up on sleep. He moved slowly, so as not to wake Opal. He made it to his slippers and out the door, she did not stir.

It had been like this for a while. Ever since things... happened in what used to be the Earth Empire. Since coming back to his own life, Bolin hadn't done very much. Rest and recuperation, lots of it, was what he was prescribed. Things had started to get easier on a day to day basis...

Bolin settled into one of the common chairs, close by the kitchenette. Things were objectively better. Maybe five years ago, he and Mako had been barely scraping by with rent, maybe a bowl of noodles from time to time, jumping from foxhole to foxhole in the struggle to stay alive.

Now, he had his entire family with him, uncles and aunts and cousins and Grandma's he'd never known existed until recently, all able to enjoy life at stately Sato Manor. By most measures, life was a lot better than it had been.

And yet, he felt so disconnected to it. As if he were just existing, taking up space, eating food and breathing air, instead of actually living.

Opal had started to worry, despite his best efforts to assure her everything was fine. It wasn't true, but it would be worse with people worrying. Opal, Gran-Gran, Mako, Korra...

The leftover spring rolls Bolin had managed to fish out of the icebox used to be his favourite. Now, they just tasted like the cardboard they printed pro-bending programs on.

This did not prevent Pabu from appearing from nowhere, chittering excitedly and running in little circles. Allowing himself a small smile, Bolin broke his roll in half and gave the smaller portion to Pabu; but not before calling him a mooch.

Unbothered by the insinuation, Pabu scurried off for a secluded corner to enjoy his newfound treasure.

Bolin continued to sit, absent-mindedly munching to quiet his rumbling stomach. He sat for a while, not watching the time.

Eventually, as the sky started to turn blue with the coming dawn, Mako came into the kitchenette, completely done up and ready for the day, minus his loose collar. It was hardly like him to be so unkempt.

Still blinking sleep from his eyes, the older brother took notice. “Morning,” He grumbled, voice still raspy from sleep.

“Morning, bro.” Bolin managed.

Mako set about his morning routine, as he always did. Cut fruit, cold boiled eggs he'd set up the night before, and a simple kettle on for coffee. Asami had an entire apparatus installed for the making of coffee; foamers, espresso press, six different types of flavour shots and freshly refined sugar. Money may not be able to buy happiness, but Asami had clearly intended to test that theory.

Overwhelmed by the sheer complexity of it all, Mako still used his old kettle, like he did back in the day. He stuck with what he knew worked.

“You're up early.” Mako hadn't looked up from what he was doing.

“Couldn't sleep.”

  
  
“...hmmph.”

  
  
“Yeah...”

Bringing the kettle only to as hot as he wanted it, Mako took the final bite of his breakfast, downed a sip of warm coffee before securing the lid and buttoning up his uniform collar.

After a long silence, Bolin finally asked “How do you do it, Mako?”

  
  
“You know how to make coffee.” Mako goaded, the slightest ghost of a smile present. “But I dunno about Asami's whole...” he gestured.

“You know that's not what I meant.”

Mako now allowed the full smile, to try and reassure his brother. It didn't quite work. That's the thing about getting old; the platitudes get just as old.

“How do you just go back to it?”

The elder brother paused, as if searching for an answer himself. They had both gone through bad times in what used to be the Earth Empire. None of them ever talked about it. Maybe Asami talked to Korra, but he wasn't privy to those conversations.

“It... helps.” Mako finally managed, from well within his thousand yard stare. It was as if for that brief microcosm of a moment, it was all painfully real again. “It helps to have something to focus my attention on. Otherwise, the mind has too much room to think, you know?”

Bolin nodded. He knew exactly how it was. Maybe it came easier to Mako to just get on with life, but it was always hard to read him.

“I dunno, bro.” Bolin sighed. “It's hard. Even with everything that's happened to the world, there's still so much anger, and suspicion, and violence, and bad things! What could actually make people get along? It's not like Gran-Gran can make noodles for EVERYONE and have them all sit down for a meal to talk it out!”

The wheels in Mako's head began turning, cogitating on this puzzle. He gave a rueful chuckle. “Used to be, I thought that's why we had the Avatar.”

Bolin sighed deeper. He'd had boots on the ground for every single time that SHOULD have been enough, but on account of shenanigans, never was.

Mako turned to leave. Before he exited, he cast a look back to Bolin.

  
  
“I dunno, brother. If I had to guess, who everyone could really use right now is Nuktuk. I bet he'd straighten all this out.”

The brothers shared a brief moment of feelings that weren't hard or complicated, as only family really could. The special understanding of both kinship and blood, something that was proven to withstand even the affections of the Avatar.

Mako left for work. Bolin attempted to eat again.

_Yeah, Nuktuk! Everyone knows him, and what he stands for! He'd go over to the Earth States and hammer out an agreement between all of the bravest and best! But it's a trap! It was all a ruse, to get Nuktuk out in the open, so that..._

Given a new source of fuel, the fires of Bolin's imagination began to grow. Scrounging for a few minutes, real quiet-like so as not to wake everyone up, he procured what he needed to commit everything to paper. With a reference point, it was easier to stay on task and not get sidetracked with every shiny, new, fantastic idea.

And so, he worked. He didn't notice the world turning around him, although remaining vaguely aware and distinctly uninterested in it. It was only when the common room became too busy and too chaotic to focus did Bolin gather his now-sprawling sheaf of papers and retreated to the bedroom.

Opal wasn't there; Bolin had remembered (maybe?) wishing her well as she went about her own day. The bed had been made, but now rumpled somewhat by Bolin laying out all his ideas on it, trying to make sense of it all.

It was all there, but it was the little bit of _how_ this went that way, _why_ things would happen the way they did, _who_ it would all happen to.

It took up nearly all of Bolin's attention for the next days, maybe weeks. But it was a lot better than reliving terrible things.

And who knew? Maybe this might have gone a way to making things better. That conceit fueled Bolin, kept him going when the eyes became tired and the words became hard to produce.

Maybe this can make a difference.


	2. Orders and Origins

_Avatar Korra, Ambassador from the United Republic._

It felt like such a bizarre title. Then, these were interesting times.

Korra took at least a moment to stroll down the gantry to the airship dock. It was such a nice day; clear, sunny, and warm.

Of course, she had expected to get to the peace summit in Earth Kingdom territory in style. And of course, Future Industries was still the best around for this kind of thing.

Stepping onto the command deck, as she was uncharacteristically early, Korra hadn't expected to find Asami running the pre-flight checklist personally. Korra bent the air slightly around her feet, softening her footsteps as she ducked behind the bulkhead.

After taking a look behind her to confirm it was just the two of them, Korra appeared in the door frame. “Hey, you.”  
  
Her girlfriend looked up, emerald eyes flashing with surprise, then delight. “Korra!” Asami glanced past her, down the corridor. “Is it just us?”  
  
“Absolutely.” Korra smirked, crossing the distance between them in less than four paces before taking Asami in her arms.

Asami sighed, nuzzling close and holding on tight.

Korra closed her eyes, holding onto the moment as if she could bend time. Being the Avatar meant the eyes of the world were on her at any given time; never mind dating the CEO of one of the biggest technology and manufacturing firms around.

These moments were always the most precious. No baleful stares and disingenuous assertions from the press, no slide-rule accountants who saw time as precious as gold, no who-even-knew-what anymore coming between them, or forcing their best behaviour. A necessary evil, certainly. But Korra had built up a healthy resentment of anything that might come between them.

Although, Asami had mentioned something exciting about these stolen little moments away from everyone else. Spicy food had always been her favourite, Korra remembered.

Their lips parted from each other, Asami sneaking in one final squeeze before they let each other go.

“I didn't expect to find you down here, doing this yourself.” Korra remarked. “I'd have thought--”  
  
“I had more important things to do?” Asami finished the thought. “Not so much. You'd be surprised by just how long the city's coordinators have to take to submit approval on anything.”

Korra made a face. “Bureaucracy.”

“We're also waiting on the next shipment of raw materials tomorrow, so things are slow.” She shrugged before setting the clipboard she was consulting down. “I had the time.”

“Hey,” Korra gently placed her hand on Asami's shoulder. She wasn't that adept at getting into the Asami state, but she could read her girlfriend well enough. “I'll be okay, you know.”  
  
“I know.” Asami assured her, smiling sweetly. “I guess I felt this was the best way I could contribute without...” She trailed off, busing herself with technical minutiae, as if that were answer enough.

They had spoken about this; at length, usually in the small hours before bed this past week. A four-day excursion to Omashu, wherein delegates and representatives from the now independent Earth states would meet with her, the President, and who-even-knew who else to hammer out an accord. It was the best chance for the armistice to form into an actual peace.

It was a nice bookend to the madness of the past few years. And if it held, this could have been an occasion not unlike the ending of the Hundred Year War.

And the problem was that Asami couldn't be there. She wanted to, she said so. But, with everything that had happened in Earth territory, it was merely too close, too painful, too soon after the fact.

Of course, Korra understood. But that apparently didn't stop her from feeling guilty for not being there. It was just one of those things.

Korra brought Asami in close, everything having being said.

After the brief moment of eternity they stole away, clanking of boots came from the gantry as the crew reported for duty.

They whispered brief “I love you”s before getting back to it. The world would hardly bring balance to itself. 

  
  
***

And then, she was gone. And the bed seemed that much bigger and emptier.

Not even her favourite comfort food – sweet and spicy unagi rolls and sesame boulderhen – nor the warmth of a bubble bath really made up the difference. Certainly, not after the day she'd had.

It had only been a day. Asami was already missing Korra awfully.

Things seemed so muted without her around to liven things up. Like static electricity, her essential vitality brought light wherever she went. And it wasn't just the Raava spirit within, it was Korra's smile. Korra's consideration. Korra's arms...

Asami sighed, running her brush through her long raven locks. It was nearly time for bed, and she was tired.

Before rising however, her sharp gaze caught an offending bit of stubble along her jawline. Something that had eluded notice until now.

She sat back down, removing a razor from one of the smaller drawers. Sighing, she dealt with it. It was, in fact, a minor inconvenience.

But fifteen years. Thousands, tens of thousands of yuans worth of the best treatments, procedures, care that her particular situation warranted. Asami counted herself fortunate, her father had taken good care of her once he'd come to terms with the fact his son, his male heir, had in fact been... well, her.

And still, it had turned out less than ideal. Everything had been promised to be uncertain. “At best, 90% removal” the firebending doctor had stated, when she started to sprout facial hair.

Asami had been able to at least come to terms with who she was, and the bad days didn't have her completely self-loathing anymore.

But then, there was Korra.

When it came to the subject of her being transgender, it never really came up. At least, not with them. Asami's choice of makeup, as well as spare razors and touchups in a secret pocket of her jacket, had allowed her to pass quite effectively all these years, even when stuck hundreds of miles away from the nearest steam bath. So, there hadn't really been a reason to...

Asami gave herself a glare in the mirror. It sounded like an even weaker excuse when put into words. But when it came to Korra, there was such trepidation, so much reservation, the mortal terror with telling the woman she loved the entire truth about herself.

The worst part was, it hadn't been this hard with Mako. She had, very bluntly, told him that she was trans, and what to expect if things worked and made it to the bedroom. Disclaimer, know what you're getting into, agree or disagree with the terms and conditions. 

All Mako had said about it was “...huh.”

But then, he had been more shocked with who her father was than her own situation. (Maybe there was a reason for that...?) 

Finally deciding to stop agonizing over everything that wasn't just so about her face, Asami turn out the light, draped the housecoat over the chair, and climbed into bed. The comfortable cold of the satin sheets felt nice against her feet.

But her mind hadn't slowed down quite so fast. In the small hours of the night, there was no blueprint to focus on, no puzzle to devise her way out of. Her imagination had liberty to wander, and whom else should it wander to?

The smallest, quietest voice inside her, the one that was so much louder and clearer when it came to other people's problems, assured that in all actuality, Korra would be alright with the truth. She'd want to know, and given how close they were, would it have been that much to accept a girl with a penis?

It didn't seem like that much of a stretch. In theory.

But Korra was the best thing to happen to her, in forever. Better than that first dress, better than graduating top of her class, better than that audacious merger with geoDyne Industries she pulled off. This particular kind of love was so intense, so precious, that if anything at all were to possibly negate that, especially if it was because of her...

Asami sighed as she turned onto her back, staring intently at the ceiling. She cursed her internal monologue for being so disagreeable.

Given the attention she attracted, she knew she was easy on the eyes. With how much effort she put in, it was only reasonable. Hands started to absent-mindedly started to trace her physical progess. Her nightgown was also soft to the touch.

Curves, softness, a healthy squish around her upper thighs. Asami gently started to wish it were Korra's hands on her, instead.

Her memory could only barely recall that magnificent smile. Casting a gaze to her right, the picture on the bedside table reminded Asami exactly how her girlfriend looked. _Spirits, she's so pretty..._

That crooked little half smile, brilliant blue eyes, chestnut hair that always somehow remained soft to the touch, just how FIT she was...

Asami noticed she had began to touch herself. It wasn't often that what she had betwixt her legs would respond to touch, but this time, thinking of Korra had given ample motivation. It was nice, to see that all functionality and sensation hadn't been lost.

She grasped herself, covers kicked off and nightgown hiked to her shoulders. Closing her eyes, Asami imagined Korra were then with her. And she whispered her name as she coaxed herself to climax.

Cleaning up was a simple matter. Laundry was getting washed, anyway. Sato efficiency.

But falling asleep was a less refined procedure. Asami curled into a comfortable position, the picture of Korra on her bedside the last thing she thought of before drifting off.

**Author's Note:**

> Let it be known, for the record, that this is my first attempt at fan fiction in over a decade. 
> 
> Suffice to say, it has been a long road, getting from there to here.
> 
> Addendum: I haven't read Ruins of the Empire, nor Turf Wars. I'm aware of the overall gist, but I'm gonna try not to touch too much on how things have developed therein.   
> (Unless one of you wants to be a real pal for Xmas...)
> 
> Comments gently encouraged, please attempt to be kind.


End file.
